I am a Wolf, and so shall I ever be. I could never descend to the level of the Falcons.
Stalking through the concrete canyons of Borealtown, Vlad saw other 'Mechs. Some were Wolves, but most were Jade Falcons. He traded shots with them, his PPC beams and lasers lighting up whole blocks. In one series of exchanges, his Timber Wolf and a Vulture left molten armor trails down parallel avenues. It ended when the Vulture lost a leg in an intersection next to the burned-out remains of one of the Timber Wolfs pulse lasers.
Vlad led the way up the small hill near the center of the town. The terrain leveled out there into a small circle that had once featured a statue set on a tall iron pillar. The buildings surrounding the park had all been constructed in the style of Terra's ancient Hellas, complete with columns and friezes. Had the pillar still been erect, or the buildings not been damaged by the Wolves' bombing runs, the place might have looked very much like the Olympian paradise envisioned by its creators.
On the far side of the circle a lone Gladiator in Jade Falcon colors stood in the plaza in front of what appeared to be the Ministry of Justice building. The humanoid 'Mech scanned as a normal configuration for that model omnimech. The anti-missile system and the extended-range small laser were relatively useless, but the 'Mech carried a reasonable amount of armor, so it could weather a lot of abuse. The rapid-loading autocannon in the left arm could inflict considerable damage, as could the PPC in the right arm. Not that it would matter much—nothing would stop Ulric from killing Chistu.
Coming into the circle Vlad moved off to the left and stationed himself in front of what had been, before the coming of the Clans, the Ministry of Budgets and Taxation. The others in his Star spread out to the right and Ulric stepped forward of their line.
From his vantage point Vlad saw that Mech Warriors Jenni and Karl were closer together than he would have liked them in a war zone, but the park appeared to be the eye of the martial storm. There was danger here, but for Chistu and Ulric, not him and his people. Still, they should know better.
Ulric's voice boomed through his helmet's speakers. "Greetings, Vahn."
"And to you, Ulric. When I suggested this duel I had no idea you would bring seconds."
"You can consider them seconds if you wish. For me, they serve as witnesses."
The Jade Falcon Khan laughed. "My gun-camera video will be witness enough to your death."
"Possibly, but such things are often damaged when a 'Mech is destroyed." Ulric's humanoid Gargoyle opened its arms. "Do you require some sort of formal declaration of intent, or shall we begin?"
"It has already begun, Ulric."
That remark struck Vlad as hopelessly bizarre, then he saw the muzzle of the small laser tucked beneath the Gladiator's chin begin to vibrate back and forth like the tines of a tuning fork. He reached over and punched a button on his command, changing his holographic display from starlight to ultraviolet. With that he saw a purplish blade of light scything back and forth, touching all the Wolf 'Mechs in the circle save himself and Mech Warrior Andrew opposite him.
The small laser is configured for targeting. He's feeding telemetry to missile Stars. "Ulric, it's a trap!"
Vlad never knew if Ulric Kerensky heard him or not as salvo after salvo of long-range missiles arced up over the Ministry of Justice building and rained down upon the Wolves. The explosions came fast and thick, filling the circle with a nova-glare that banished night and burned shadows into the stone where they struck. Angry and boiling, the fire became hotter as air rushed in to feed it. A gout of flame shot into the sky like a fiery demon released from hell.
The last Vlad saw of Ulric was an image of the Gargoyle lunging forward, its arms reaching toward the Gladiator. Brilliant fire swept over the 'Mech, smothering it like a blanket. When it parted Vlad thought he saw the blackened silhouette take one more step forward, then disintegrate into ash, torn apart by the titanic force unleashed with the Jade Falcons' missile assault.
The ground rippled beneath Vlad's 'Mech, and he had to fight to keep the Timber Wolf upright. The 'Mech lurched to the right and Vlad felt it start to topple. Cursing, he wrenched his body around and forward, then brought the 'Mech down into a crouch. By lowering the machine's center of gravity he regained control, but in doing so had twisted around so that the Gladiator no longer stood in the firing arc of his weapons.
On his holographic display he saw the Jade Falcon 'Mech shift its autocannon toward where Andrew's bulky Summoner had stumbled to its knees. The Gladiator aimed carefully, then fire vomited from the slender muzzle that was its left arm. The swarm of autocannon projectiles blasted into and through the Summoner's cockpit, dropping the 'Mech to the ground like a man just decapitated.
Vlad brought the Timber Wolf up and spun it to face Chistu's Gladiator. "You treacherous slime. You're so low that when you look up all you can see are freebirth soles!"
"Ulric killed them, not me. I did not want witnesses." The Gladiator's arm swung toward the Timber Wolf. "I had hoped to use you, Vlad of the Wards, as a rallying point for the Wolves who remained, but Ulric has seen to it that I cannot."
"I will see to it that you cannot'" Vlad targeted the Gladiator and tightened up on his triggers. Heat scorched him, but it didn't matter. He was a Wolf, and he would avenge his Khan and cleanse his Clan's honor, even if it cost him his life. By my hand you will die!
One of the two PPCs missed, exploding a Ministry of Justice transformer behind Chistu. The other one combined with the Timber Wolf's two remaining pulse lasers to carve deep furrows into the Gladiator's torso armor. The Timber Wolf's short-range Streak missiles peppered the Gladiator's arms and legs, but destroyed only armor.
The Gladiator's autocannon spat out a double-load of projectiles and hit the Timber Wolf dead center. The depleted-uranium slugs pulverized the ferro-fibrous armor and gnawed into the internal support structures that held the OmniMech together. Sparks flew from consoles in the cockpit, and smoke combined with the heat to choke the pilot.
Worse than the damage done by the weapon was the sheer effect of the transference of kinetic energy to the Timber Wolf. The impact of the shells lifted the torso up and drove it back. Vlad tried to balance the 'Mech, but only succeeded in making it stumble backward. It half-turned to steady itself against the Ministry of Budgets and Taxation building, but the earlier missile explosions had shaken the structure with the force of an earthquake. Vlad's Timber Wolf burst through the wall and crashed onto its back against the marble floor, scattering support pillars like tenpins.
I must get up! Chistu must die! Vlad shook his head to clear it, but in the heat and the smoke, and with all the warning sirens blaring, he could not concentrate. I must get up! I must.
He struggled even harder, then looked up through the cockpit canopy. Above him, for all of a second, he saw the night sky and the stars spread across it. Then a black void swallowed it. With each instant seeming to stretch into an hour, Vlad saw the walls and roof of the building sag inward, faster and faster. When they hit his 'Mech, the impact shook the machine harder than the explosions and harder than Chistu's autocannon fire.
Somewhere amid the shaking, the star-swallowing void came to Vlad of the Wards, and fight against it though he did, it gobbled him whole.
44
But the Persians suffered from that most dangerous tendency in war: a wish to kill but not to die in the process.
-Herodotus
Icegrief Pass, Australarctica
Morges, Lyran Alliance
13 December 3057
Sitting in the cockpit of his Wolfhound, Khan Phelan Ward felt as desolate within as the vast white expanse around him. The currents of emotion running through him were as fierce as the frigid winds of Icegrief Pass as they drove billowing, ground-hugging clouds of snow and ice before them. All around him he saw ancient, long-frozen mountains twisted into bizarre shapes by the winds, the forms echoing the mangled heaps of sentiment and memory inside him.
The only difference between out there and i
n here is that outside is all white while inside I am nothing but blackness.
It had been two days since he'd received the news of Natasha's death on Twycross. The moment he read the brief ComStar transmission, he realized that they'd both known at their parting that she would not survive this fight. But it wasn't that he thought Natasha had harbored a death wish or decided to commit some warrior's form of suicide. Somehow he sensed that the Black Widow, after more than eight decades of life as a warrior, must have realized she could add nothing more to her legend. She had become too good at killing and, by any standard, had so far surpassed other warriors that there was nothing left for her to do.
And, for the fearsome Black Widow, there could never have been retirement. Phelan smiled in spite of the void he felt inside. Natasha had always railed against the Clan tradition of retiring warriors at forty-five years of age and using them merely to raise up a new crop of warriors.
Alone in his cockpit, Phelan reflected on all this and felt a kind of acceptance of Natasha's death. Then came another message, the one from Angeline Mattlov at dawn, containing the news that Ulric Kerensky had been slain on Wotan. She noted that some Wolves had survived and escaped off planet, but she assured him they would not reach Morges in time to make any difference in their battle.
This information, Phelan was certain, was intended to demoralize him and his people, but Mattlov could never have guessed that her words would have exactly the opposite effect. Phelan did not doubt the news of Ulric's death or that the Wolves had lost the battle for Wotan. If it had been otherwise, Angeline would not be planning to engage the Wolves and Hounds today.
Ulric Kerensky, from the time Phelan had first met him up to the last time he had seen him, had always been in control of any situation in which he was involved. Anticipating each turn of events, he would plot out a strategy for victory. And, in Phelan's experience, his aim had always been true.
And now Ulric was dead.
Instead of shaking Phelan's confidence in Ulric, knowledge of his death only intensified his regard for the man. Phelan chose to believe, and so communicated to his people, that Ulric trusted so completely in their ability to destroy the Jade Falcons and preserve Clan Wolf that he had willingly accepted a role in a plan that he knew would probably kill him.
The other thing Mattlov's message gave Phelan was extremely good news. The Wolves may not have won Wotan, but they had been formidable enough to seriously hurt the Jade Falcons in the fighting. Otherwise, Mattlov would have mentioned the arrival of her own reinforcements along with his. Even more telling was the fact that the Wolves had managed to retreat from Wotan in such good enough order that she considered them possible reinforcements. This suggested to Phelan that at least a Cluster must have gotten away.
If she were to finish her campaign against him before Wolf survivors could reach Morges, Mattlov would have to push for a quick and decisive battle that would break the Wolves. The idea heartened Phelan because it meant the Jade Falcons would have to come at his people hard and fast. Since his force was already in prepared defensive positions, and had adequate air cover, the battling would be costly for the Falcons.
Angeline Mattlov knew this as well as he did and, as he expected, she had grounded her forces on the lowlands near the Bay of Broken Hope. It was a tactically inferior position, but the best she could do and still be within engagement distance of the Wolves. The meteorological survey facility on the bay was insufficient to house all the Falcons, but it was preferable to sleeping on a DropShip.
Phelan's people had all taken up positions in the Highlands, where they would defend key points to deny Mattlov access to the snowfields beyond the first ring of mountains on the icy continent of Australarctica. Phelan had supposed Mattlov would strike first at the Kell Hounds, so he had put them at Icegrief Pass, the most easily defended location. To get to it Mattlov would have to push a hundred kilometers across treacherous terrain, then start the climb up the sharp incline into the teeth of the Hound defenses.
"Wolf One, Hound Command here."
"Roger, Dan, what have you got?"
"A Jade Falcon lance, er, Star of light OmniMechs at the base of the pass."
"Roger. Your discretion, your optimum range."
"Roger, Wolf One. We'll let you know when the shooting starts."
Phelan keyed up a vector graphic image of the pass. The defensive lines had been set up in an elongated hexagon. The long lines at the top and bottom of the hexagon cut perpendicularly across the pass, generally on the reverse of any small dip in the pass itself, providing the 'Mechs cover from the direct fire of Clan missiles and beams. The sharply angled sides of the hexagon were smaller than the defensive lines and angled up and back away from the main line of the pass. By retreating to the right or left, 'Mechs would be offered cover by the mountains and a route that would take them to the next defensive line.
The angled sides went through natural terrain chokepoints that would slow retreating 'Mechs down, but would present even more of a problem to any Clan 'Mechs in pursuit. As enemy 'Mechs tried to come through those smaller side passes, Phelan's people could direct a withering amount of fire at those spots. More important, every defender had the coordinates of those points locked into his or her battle computer. Provided those passes were in the firing arcs of their weapons, Phelan's troops could direct their 'Mechs to aim and shoot at one of those points automatically, even if they could not see it.
The whole thrust of their defense was to hold on to each line for as long as they could, then pull back. The first and second ranks were already filled with 'Mechs. Once the front rank fell back, it would travel to the third rank and be prepared to support the second rank in the same way the second rank had supported them. Even if the Jade Falcons captured one line, crossing to the next one would be just as costly as taking the first and so on.
Angeline Mattlov might have decided that the Kell Hounds were the easiest unit to tackle, but Phelan figured that before she took the second line of defense she'd be contemplating a retreat. She thought of the Hounds as mercenaries—which they were—but she did not equate that with their being elite professional warriors. He also doubted she realized the Hounds were using OmniMechs of their own, salvaged from the battlefield at Luthien and supplemented by the 'Mechs the Red Corsair had used to attack their home base at Arc-Royal two and a half years before.
"Wolf One, we're about to go. Holovid feed on Tac Seven."
"Good luck, Dan."
Phelan punched the holovid feed into his holographic display. Five light OmniMechs pushed forward through the snow into the lower precincts of the pass. The ice on the stony walls had frozen into blue cascades. Little snow-devils swirled and chased each other down through the Clan formation. In the lead were two Omnis—a Dasher and a Koshi with the boxy Puma in the middle and two Ullers at the rear.
Phelan studied the 'Mechs pictured on the display. The Ullers and the Puma had been configured as missile-boats. The Dasher and Koshi did not show missile racks, so he assumed they'd been outfitted as spotting units. They were fast enough to be difficult to target—especially the Dasher—and the other 'Mechs boasted enough missile firepower to seriously hurt most Inner Sphere 'Mechs. Knowing that the weapons of Inner Sphere 'Mechs have considerably shorter effective ranges, Mattlov had figured she could use this Star to probe and harass Phelan's defense.
"Hunters, fire at will," came Dan Allard's voice through Phelan's neurohelmet.
The Kell Hounds First Regiment, known as The Wild Hunters, opened up en masse on the Falcons. Their fire patterns had two companies engaging each Jade Falcon 'Mech. Configured to use energy weapons almost exclusively, the Hound 'Mechs filled the pass with red, green, and blue darts of energy in a light show so bright Phelan had to turn his eyes away from the display. In doing so he glanced out through his Wolfhound's canopy and saw, thirty kilometers way, a riot of light playing through the low clouds hovering over Icegrief Pass.
"Freebirth, what is that?" Phelan heard over t
he Wolf's tactical frequency.
"First blood for our side, and it goes to the Hounds."
As swift as the Dasher was, it went down quickly under fire from twelve 'Mechs firing an average of four weapons each at it. Pulse lasers burned through the armor on its legs and then on through them, taking the limbs off at the knees. The cerulean spear of a PPC beam penetrated the 'Mech's chest, melting its torso in half. The Dasher's faceplate exploded as the pilot ejected, but the 'Mech had been so brutally stricken that the ejection seat burrowed straight into the snow of the pass and the 'Mech fell down heavily on top of it.
By the time Phelan shifted his attention to the fate of the other 'Mechs, all he could see was the imploding golden plasma ball from a fusion-engine reaction running unchecked and the Koshi's burned black skeleton lying in sharp relief against the ice into which it had melted.
Phelan fed those images to all the 'Mechs of his Fourth Wolf Guards Assault and 279th Battle Clusters. "The Hounds did that as easily and cleanly as we would have. Next time any of you decide to use the term 'freebirth' as a curse, just remember that freeborn is what they are, each and every one. In that old battle between nature and nurture, I'd say nature's ahead five nothing."
45
There is no instance of a country having benefited from prolonged warfare.
-Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Marik Palace, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
15 December 3057
Thomas Marik studied the scarlet datastream scrolling through the space over his desk. "Ah, very good, the resistance on Castor has been put down."